In February, we learned the sad news that Bud’s Oma had passed away. She was an inspirational woman who had overcome unimaginable challenges in her life, including being exiled from her home country, spending time in a concentration camp, and leaving her home to start a new life in a country where she knew no one. When Bud and I are going through a challenging time, Bud will often reflect on what his grandparents had to bear, and their trials put things into perspective. Bud’s Oma was a source of identity for Bud, helping to shape his roots. He has fond memories of days and nights spent playing games with his cousins at his grandparents’ home. I have fond memories of visiting and staying with Oma, and she was always warm, kind, and interesting to talk to. In addition to being strong, kind people, whenever I think of the best food I have ever eaten, I don’t think of one of the many restaurants Bud and I have visited over the years, I think of Oma and Opa’s dining room table. 

Attending Oma’s services was something Bud wanted badly to do, to say goodbye, and to be with his family. But we were not sure if it was feasible. How would we manage it? It would be very expensive, for one. Secondly, would Bud attend alone? Would he go with one of the kids? In the end, both my mother and father generously offered to stay with our rambunctious three so we could both go to California for a few days, a feat almost thwarted by mother nature.

The day before our flight, New England experienced a historical blizzard. We received about 32 inches of snow, both my mother and father were snowed into their homes, and there was a ban on driving in both Massachusetts and Rhode Island. We had planned everything to a tee, labeling and making videos on everything my mom and dad would need to know, preparing food, preparing the kids. On Tuesday, the day we were scheduled to leave, I kept the news playing in the background as we did our final preparations. Flights were canceled, parking bans were still in effect, my father’s streets were not plowed, and my mother was plowed into her driveway. Dad advised that I look into alternative flights.

But in the end, the driving ban was lifted a couple hours before we were scheduled to leave, and an hour before, we received a text from Odile that my dad was able to shovel enough at the top of his driveway and follow someone’s tire tracks out of their neighborhood to the main road, which had been plowed. Our Uber (thank you Mom and Don for the Uber ride!) was on its way to pick us up and whisk us away on our first overnight trip away from our kids ever.

Leaving the kids was hard. I worked hard to keep my tears at bay and keep smiling as we said our goodbyes. I knew this would be good for them, to be away from us. The only time I have ever been away overnight from them was to give birth to their siblings, and it was hard to leave. We felt separation anxiety the whole ride to the airport. 

We arrived to the airport early, having experienced no traffic, as no one was on the road. The airport felt empty, and it took us minutes to get through security. We learned our flight was delayed. We were left to wait for four hours, feeling stressed and anxious, still questioning this trip on which we were about to embark.

We arrived to our hotel for the night at 3:15am, where we stared at the ceiling for an hour before deciding to throw in the towel and get ready for our journey inland. After all of the fretful emotions of the previous couple days, we started this first day on the west coast feeling changed. My dad had sent photos of the morning, and everyone was happy and safe. We both suddenly, inexplicably, felt like our old selves, our pre-kid selves, carefree, able to focus on each other, eager for the day ahead. 

Bud’s siblings were not scheduled to arrive until night, and we were not meeting Bud’s mom until the afternoon, so we spent the morning enjoying each other’s company, exploring, walking, eating, and talking. We were able to give one another undivided attention, and were not fretting about getting home to get the kids to bed or put in the laundry. It was a wonderful feeling.